


Educational Field Trip

by StarlightPhoenix



Series: Wait, You're Famous?!?! [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Mild Cursing, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, Viktor with a K, Yuri Lives in America with His Two Retired Dads, but what did you expect from Yuri?, not that it was a secret, people just didn't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9806429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightPhoenix/pseuds/StarlightPhoenix
Summary: When there was a new kid at their school, they knew some things about him. His name was Yuri Plisetsky, he was rich, got good grades even though he never did any work, and was terrifying.What theydidn'tknow was literally everything else.AKA Yuri goes to high school and not a single student knows who he is, until they all do.





	1. Chapter 1

When you go to a high school with only a little more than a thousand students and have been in the same school as them since kindergarten, you tend to notice a new junior who looked like he came from a photoshoot.

Yuri Plisetsky was enrolled in the middle of September, and rumors spread quickly. Plisetsky had a soft build, all lean limbs and blond hair, but that softness shattered when you looked at his face. A permanent scowl and annoyed eyes made him unapproachable. He was a step higher than the middle-class kids attending the school, wearing designer clothes and driving an Audi to school.

They didn’t even know how he got into advanced classes. He never did any of the work, but he still got good grades.

“His parents are bribing the principal,” was one whisper.

“Or the principal had an illegitimate kid and feels bad for him,” was a common second.

The only thing they really knew was that Plisetsky was terrifying.

It was proved when Lily Sojak was whispering insults in biology, purposefully sitting behind him so he’d hear.

“Please, he’s more of a girl than real girls. Look at that hair! He even braids it! He’s so gay—”

The class erupted into chaos as Plisetsky turned around and decked her.

“There is nothing _wrong_ with being gay!”

Mrs. Beck called the school officer to take Plisetsky to the principal and Lily to the nurse. Plisetsky was still shaking in anger, but followed the officer.

He came back to class the next day. Lily did not.

They heard from her friends that she was expelled and her parents refused to sue him.

Once winter really started, Plisetsky started to disappear for days at a time. He would be missing from Thursday of one week to Monday of the next, and then come back grinning. None of the teachers demanded he make up work, or even looked concerned. In fact, they looked just as pleased as he was.

With the semester almost over, there was the dreaded twenty-percent-of-your-grade presentation in biology. It was simple enough. The groups were assigned different phyla and had to do an in-depth presentation.

The problem was that the teacher assigned groups and Plisetsky was in their class.

To her credit, Mrs. Beck looked slightly apologetic when she called his name, but it didn’t change the fact that they were working with him.

After the names were called, they got into their groups, Plisetsky sauntering over.

Emmy and Jacob exchanged a look. They were doomed to fail…

“So.” Plisetsky began. “Phylum Chordata. Whatever that is.”

“Well, I can create a google slide and we can split the work between ourselves,” Emmy suggested.

 _And pick up the slack where you didn’t do the work_ , she thought bitterly.

“Cool. I’ll give you my email.”

He pulled out a paper and started to write before crossing out the first email and writing another. He had two emails?

They each picked one subphyla to research and present, Emmy really hoping Mrs. Beck would have pity on them and see they put in an effort.

To their surprise, the next day, Plisetsky finished all of his part, from biological structure to examples to what made his subphyla different from the others. Emmy and Jacob barely did more than open wikipedia.

Of course, they knew it was too good to last when Plisetsky went to them to day before the presentation and said he wouldn’t be there.

“What do you mean you won’t be here!” Emmy exclaimed. “This is 20 percent of our semester grade!”

Plisetsky, the rich brat, just shrugged. “I’m going to France.”

She stared. If she killed him, the class would get an A. No, wait, that was only during tests.

Instead, she just said “fuck you” and went back to her phone.

Plisetsky smirked and left her.

Emmy had to take a few deep breaths to not cry. Her grade depended on this presentation, and she was going to fail because Plisetsky decided to have an early vacation. Great. Maybe it was salvageable? Technically, the information was all there, she and Jacob just had to read it. Maybe he would be the only one to fail? Or maybe he would get a good grade despite not even being there, the bastard.

On the day of presentations, Mrs. Beck didn’t look surprised to see him gone. She just smiled and told them to do their best and she would take that into account for their grade. With a smile as shallow as a puddle, she and Jacob made it through, and she felt fairly confident she could at least grab a B.

The next week, Plisetsky asked how the presentation went after school, and all she could say was, “Maybe you’d know if you were there.”

“I had better things to do,” he returned.

Bastard.

There was a sudden vibrating, and she pressed her lips together. There was a “no using phones on campus” rule, but since when did Plisetsky care about rules? He answered right in the hallway where teachers were talking, but they feigned ignorant.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there soon, _dad_. Would it kill you to have any patience?”

Emmy’s disapproval grew. If she spoke to her dad like that, she’d never leave the house again. She’d be home-schooled until she died.

“Yeah, give me ten minutes,” he said, and then hung up.

Plisetsky returned her disapproving look before leaving.

=====

There was a new ice rink open, so a bunch of them decided to go skating. It was winter break and their parents wanted them out of the house anyways.

The man who took their money and handed out the skates was nice, telling them to enjoy and remember the rink closed at eight. Which was okay with them, since it still gave them three hours to laugh when they fell.

Emmy fell more times that she could count, feeling sore but pleased she was with her friends. One doesn’t share a school with the same people for twelve years without making strong bonds.

With only five minutes until closing, they went to turn in their skates, and saw Plisetsky walk in with a duffel bag.

“Dude, it’s almost closing time,” Jacob warned. “The guy at the counter ripped you off if you paid.”

Plisetsky tilted his head at that, blond hair securely pinned up instead of falling in his face, before turning to the employee. “Yo, Katsudon, was I supposed to pay?”

The employee smiled and walked over. Instead of a forced “I have to be nice to the customer or else I’m fired” smile, it was genuine, and he even went to ruffle the kid’s hair.

“Don’t be ridiculous Yuri. And your friends can stay, too, if you want.”

Plisetsky’s haughty expression morphed into insulted. “They’re not my friends!”

The employee looked concerned but nodded. “In that case, I’m afraid we’re closed,” he told them before turning back to Plisetsky. “Viktor got stuck in traffic, so I’ll be watching your warm-ups.”

They left their skates on the counter, walking slowly to watch Plisetsky pull out an expensive pair of skates and lace them up. When he was done and stood, he noticed their lingering.

“Oi! They’re closed, so get out!”

They rushed to leave, a new thread of gossip already forming.

======

Of course, the new ice rink meant another way to get kids to be active, so the PTA was quick to make a field trip out of it. Which sucked the fun right out of ice skating.

The rink apparently held classes for kids, and offered to do some for a discounted rate. Not only was the trip mandatory, it was a part of their PE grade. To keep the rink from being overwhelmed, freshmen went Monday, sophomores on Tuesday, Wednesday was a short day and ignored, juniors on Thursday, and seniors on Friday.

While the general reaction was a mix of excitement and annoyance, Plisetsky was furious.

“I’m not going,” he declared to Coach Fisher.

“It’s part of your grade,” the man tried to coax, but Plisetsky was having none of it.

“I spend more than five hours training every day! I’m not going!”

When Thursday came, he was actually there. While they were told not to bring their bags, Plisetsky brought a duffel anyway, the only one to do so.

They loaded onto the bus, Plisetsky scowling and staring out the window. He sat alone in the back, a look of warning on his face for anyone who tried to speak with him. Even coach Fisher stayed clear of him.

After everyone filing off the bus and went to grab skates, he sat on one of the benches and pulled out his own skates, looking at the rest of the class in disgust.

Like already knowing how to skate made him better than everyone else, Emmy snarked.

After everyone had their skates, the employee went towards Plisetsky, and the class strained their ears to listen.

“Viktor said you were going to skip.”

“Well tell the old man I wanted to. But this means practice ends early for me today!”

The employee laughed and nodded. “Start doing some stretches then, while he teaches the rest of the class.”

Plisetsky nodded and went to the side, twisting his body into flexible poses.

A minute later, a man with silver hair, too young to be greying, stepped onto the ice. “Hello! I’m Viktor, and I’ll be teaching you the basics of ice skating.”

There was a scoff from Plisetsky.

The instructor turned in surprise, and then grinned and went to hug him. “Yurio! I didn’t think you’d be here!”

Plisetsky struggled to get out. “Get off me, old man! I’m only here so I can leave early!”  

“I’m so glad!” the instructor continued, undeterred by Plisetsky’s attitude. “We can leave early and get dinner together! How fun!”

“Oi! I have to stretch! Let go!”

The man finally did so, turning back to the class. “Okay! How many of you have skated before?”

A few hands went up, including Emmy and those who visited during break.

Their instructor nodded. “Okay! You can get onto the ice and skate on the far rink for a bit. I’ll help the others find their balance.”

As they went to do so, they saw Plisetsky give them another dirty look.

Coach Fisher stood by the edge, watching them and making sure they didn’t fall. Viktor took the other students to another rink, helping them one by one to get one and not fall. From what they saw, Viktor was patient, not getting annoyed when a kid took more than a few minutes to get the hang of it. The other employee was just as watchful of the newbies as Coach Fisher. Eventually, seeing Viktor handling everything there, the employee wandered over to Plisetsky, silently watching.

Emmy and her friends made a few loops, trying not to focus on their classmate. When she tried to do a spin and fell, Plisetsky laughed, and her face reddened.

“Yurio,” the other employee scolded, but there was affection in the tone, just like every other adult who spoke with him.

Emmy bit her cheek, getting up and sticking to looping around the edge.

When Viktor was done with the beginners, he let them skate around for a bit, finding their balance. Plisetsky chose that moment to be done with stretches, and tied his hair up into a messy bun.

The other employee immediately pulled back out the hair tie, pushing him onto the bench and properly braiding his hair. The class tried and failed not to stare. Instead of snapping, Plisetsky sat calmly, like it happened every time.

Finally, the two of them moved to the last rink, the employee standing by the edge while Plisetsky went to the center of the ice. He did a few loops around the edge, but that was all they saw before Viktor called for their attention.

“Since you all know the basics, I’ll show you some simple tricks.”

Viktor started with a scissors movement, which showed them how to skate backwards. After making sure they got the basics, he called them one by one to make sure they didn’t bump into anyone or anything. Most of the looked terrified, but once they got it, they were more confident. Determined to not screw up in front of Plisetsky again, Emmy was focused, until she had to lift a foot and then Viktor needed to steady her before she fell. Eventually, she got it, but it didn’t help the bitterness from him seeing her screw up again.

Viktor moved onto lunges, assuring them that if they could do it in real life, they could do it on the ice. This was true, and the only mistake that they made was looking down and losing their center.

Overall, it was a pretty fun field trip. It definitely beat the same museum for twelve years.

They stopped for lunch, Viktor telling them to keep their skates close but not return them. Viktor himself didn’t take a break, instead going towards Plisetsky’s rink. Finally having no distractions, they stared as he jumped and rotated in the air, his landing smooth as he continued to move.

Viktor and the other employee frowned.

“Your arms weren’t straight,” Viktor criticized.

Plisetsky nodded and did the jump again, arms raised up and stiff. They didn’t see a difference, but the two others nodded.

Finally, he skated towards the edge, grabbing a water bottle and stepping off. Instead of being handed a PB&J, the Japanese employee gave him a boxed lunch, Plisetsky and those two going to the side to talk and eat together.

After lunch, they were back on the ice skating and having fun. The chaperones and coaches watched carefully, but other than a few falls, no one got hurt.

Finally, around 2pm, it was time to go. They turned in their skates, though Plisetsky kept his, but before they left the building, Coach Fisher called for their attention.

“Yuri and his coach said we can watch one of his routines,” he announced, like it was some great privilege and not a rich kid who went to classes.

Nevertheless, they hovered at the edge of the largest rink, Plisetsky and Viktor talking loud enough to hear.

“It’s not perfect,” Plisetsky said to his coach.

“Which is why you need to practice. The Europeans is almost here.”

“Fine, fine.”

They watched him go to the center, holding a pose until music from the speakers played. As soon as the first note played, he was off, moving across the ice with the grace of a fairy, gliding effortlessly into jumps and spins and moves they couldn’t name. At first, it was mostly dancing, but as the song went on, he added more jumps, not looking nearly as exhausted as he should’ve been.

He had every right to act superior about skating, they realized. They could barely stake straight while he was jumping like a spirit, unbound by the laws of nature.

The song stopped, and Plisetsky struck his final pose, breathing hard.

A moment of silence and then thunderous applause.

The employee handed him a water bottle, Viktor congratulating Plisetsky first and then offering criticisms.

Once Plisetsky left the ice, Jacob found himself by him. “Dude! That was amazing! You should compete!”

The Russian stopped drinking his water to stare at him. “What?”

“Yeah! You could totally win!” Emmy encouraged.

“Why do you think I missed so much school?”

They looked at him blankly.

“Oh my god… you don't know?” Plisetsky looked shocked. “I _do_ compete. I have golds in the Grand Prix Final, World Championship, and the Olympics.”

Silence. Those who heard immediately stopped talking, and it spread until you could hear a pin drop.

“You competed in the Olympics?” Emmy asked faintly.

“Yeah? I thought you all knew. I couldn’t do the bio presentation because that was when the Grand Prix Final was in France.”

Oh god. She told a professional skater to fuck off when he was going to compete…

Viktor looked around in amusement. “You know, this reminds me of the time Yuuri’s friends didn’t know he was a skater. Good times.”

Instead of Plisetsky responding, it was the other employee. “It’s a hard topic to bring up. We can’t all start a conversation with _hi, my name is Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov and I’m a decorated professional skater._ ”

“Nah, Katsudon, your friends were just dumb.”

“Yurio!”

“Besides, they’re not my friends.”

“Wait—” Emmy started, trying to understand, but Plisetsky spoke over her.

“This rink is owned by Viktor and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, both decorated professional skaters who retired, and is for me, Viktor’s student. Everyone else is allowed for fun, but this is _my_ private rink when I’m practicing.”

Which explained why he was allowed to stay that one day during winter break and didn’t want to come today.

The other employee—Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov—turned to coach Fisher. “Does Yurio have to go back on the bus or can he stay?”

The coach hesitated. “Technically, he does but...”

Yuuri smiled. “Thank you. There’s another competition coming and he needs to practice.”

The others were shepherded onto the buses while Plisetsky stayed behind, already back on the ice and under the watchful eye of his coach.

======

The senior class president organized a free showing of the European Championships over the weekend. Since the short program was on Friday while classes were on, a replay of the shorts was shown first. Then, they waited for the live showing of the free skate.

They expected about half the students. Instead, they got almost all of them and family. The auditorium was packed, chairs and aisles filled with excited fans while school staff hovered and fretted about fire hazards.

For the short program, Plisetsky beat his competitors at 102.25 points, with second place being more than 5 points away.

For the free skate, it was the routine he did for them at the ice rink. It was just as amazing for their untrained eyes.

They waited in silence as Plisetsky did the same with Viktor and Yuuri at the Czech Republic, anticipation making them nervous. Finally, the numbers were announced and he got 190.72 points.

The entire auditorium erupted into cheers at his victory. Across the world, Plisetsky beamed, the other two hugging and kissing him for staying in first.

And he probably didn’t know he had fans from his own school cheering with the rest of the crowd.

======

When Plisetsky got back on Monday and stepped into his first class, he was met with applause. His desk was covered in congratulations cards from students and staff, even the odd parent or two.

For the first time since he walked into their small school, he looked shaken.

“You didn’t have to...” He picked up one of the cards and beamed at the class. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Emmy teased. “You still have to win Worlds.”

Plisetsky looked overwhelmed, but at the mention of another competition, his determination was back.

“I’ll get gold,” he assured.

“And we’ll be here cheering for you.”

When Yuri Plisetsky smiled at their support, he wasn’t the same person who terrified them. Instead, he was someone they could like.

Maybe they could even be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My second identity reveal fic! 
> 
> If you wanna read my other fic with Yuuri, I will shamelessly add a link to it [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9641264)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first chapter, I said Yuri was a senior, but then this chapter wouldn't fit, so I made him a junior then and a senior now. 
> 
> This a year after the first chapter, and the POV is the new kid, Ethan.

When you’re eighteen and still in high school, you don’t have a choice about moving if your parents are dead set on it. Even if it _is_ your senior year. So when Ethan’s mom got a job transfer to a town so small it wasn’t on a paper map, he had to go too.

Ethan was used to schools so big you didn’t know half the people in your grade. Yeah, a lot of them were from his middle school, but three different middle schools came to the same high school. No one would know if there was a new kid.

His new school was tiny, and everyone knew each other since they were in diapers. The last new kid was enrolled _last_ year, and was the only one, a kid named Yuri Plisetsky.

That was the other thing.

In his old school, there wasn't just a single popular kid with a group of fans. Yeah, some were more known than others, but it wasn’t some weird hierarchy.

His new school had everyone fawning over Plisetsky, worshipping the ground he walked on. Plisetsky was cute, rich, popular, and a senior. It was like a teen drama. Ethan was half-expecting to hear about vampires roaming the streets.

Sharing World History with him was… interesting. Unlike calculus, where Plisetsky was quiet, World History was him commenting about all the places he visited.

_“I’m telling you, The Forbidden City is the best place to see Chinese history! You learn so much from the architecture and structure!”_

_“If you’re going to go to Japan, go during spring break when the cherry blossoms are blooming. It’s like a movie when the wind blows and the petals fall down!”_

_“You can see centuries worth of art at Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. Some buildings are as old as Roman settlements!”_

God, how many places did he go on vacation?

And the other kids and teachers ate out of his hand. They let him copy homework, and the teachers barely noticed if he didn’t turn in anything. They just gave him sympathetic looks and said they understood. Understood _what_? That he was lazy and used his popularity to his benefit?

Ethan felt like he was living _High School Musical_ with a male Sharpay. Plisetsky was blond enough for that.

On the bright side, Ethan wasn't as much of an outcast as he thought he would be. The other kids were quick to befriend him, sitting with him during lunch and inviting him out after school.

He was at the only Starbucks in town, chilling with Emmy and Jacob and a few other kids in his grade, all with the latest World History assignment up on their laptops.

The Hundred Year’ War, the political and economic impact on both countries, five pages. Not fun.

“Don’t use contractions,” Emmy advised. “Every word counts. And make sure to write out everything. ‘The people of France’ instead of ‘the French.’”

“Is this how you passed English with an A,” Jacob grumbled, staring at the only sentence he wrote so far.

“No, it’s because I actually paid attention.”

The door opened with a chime, and the table turned to glance at the new customer. Ethan was the only one to not smile.

Plisetsky. Of course.

Emmy waved wildly, grabbing his attention. He nodded at her, saying hi as he passed them to get to the register, and just as Ethan was relieved to know he wouldn't be joining them, Plisetsky walked right over and grabbed a chair instead of standing by the counter.

Of course.

“Hey have you started the history paper yet?” Emmy asked.

Plisetsky shrugged. “I finished yesterday.”

No way. The paper was _assigned_ yesterday. There was no way he finished in one day.

“Oh thank god,” Jacob breathed. “What did you put for your intro?”

“Uh… I mostly just listed the basics that I was gonna talk about? I can send you mine, if you want.”

“Really? You’re the best, Yuri!”

“Nah. Besides, I owe you for the calc homework.”

The barista called his name, and he went to grab a java chip frappuccino. Ethan was expecting a long and complicated order, like a grande sugar-free vanilla latte with soy milk, an extra shot, and no foam.

“Can you stay?” Emmy asked.

“Nope. Viktor’s being annoying and changed my choreography, so I need more practice. Maybe later?”

“Sure dude,” Jacob assured. “Just text us when you’re free.”

Plisetsky nodded and headed out, and the conversation went back to the paper.

 _Viktor?_ Ethan wondered. No one in their grade was named Viktor, or even their school, but maybe a long-distance boyfriend? His dad? No, most people don’t call their dad by their first name. Step-dad?

Whatever. He could figure it out after he finished the paper.

~~~

In October, he was expecting Halloween parties, a day where everyone wore costumes to school, a fall festival, something to do with the season or holiday.

What he _wasn’t_ expecting was a showing of an ice skating event.

Who even watched ice skating?

Everyone in his school and their parents.

Apparently it started last year, and when the school realized how many people went, they started charging $3 per person and made a ton of money.

It was hyped up, everyone excited and whispering about _Skate America_ like it was the Olympics. Even the name sounded dumb. No matter how many times Emmy tried to convince him to go, he really couldn’t care enough to buy a ticket. She couldn’t convince Plisetsky either, though, since he wasn’t going to be in town that weekend.

The weekend showing came and went, and the entire town was celebrating, talking about spins and loops and flips like they were skaters themselves.

The only thing rivalling their interest in the skating competition was Plisetsky. The usual group of ten people surrounding him expanded into the entire school. Teachers and students alike were asking about his weekend, if he had fun, if he went sightseeing or was too busy. Plisetsky was taking it all in stride.

“Yeah, it was nice to see everyone again—No, I had to skip the sights to come back here in time for class—”

Everyone practically cooed, like school was a pastime and he was gracing them with his presence.

Ethan rolled his eyes. They weren’t going to get to the math part of calculus. And lo and behold, they were still talking when the bell rang and dismissed them.

~~~

There were a few more skating competitions that were shown, Emmy saying it was a good way to bond as classmates. When he pointed out that regular movies worked just as well, she insisted it was different.

Plisetsky kept missing more school, and it was a fifty-fifty on whether he’d do the work or just copy someone else’s.

Finally, Thanksgiving week was there, and he could go back to see his other friends. Not that he didn’t like his new ones, but texting was different from seeing them and hanging out.

Emmy invited him to the skating rink, saying they were all going and even Plisetsky would be there, but that only cemented his desire to get out of town.

His parents made him promise to call at every rest stop, but that was a small price to pay for being allowed to drive seven hours to go back to his friends. He was staying at his best friend’s house for a week, and it was a dream come true.

Aiden sympathized with him about Plisetsky. While Ethan ranted, he nodded, looking as mad as Ethan felt.

“Wait, so he gets good grades even though he doesn’t do the work? And the teachers know he cheats? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Probably. But everyone loves this kid. He probably pays them to be friends with him or something.”

“Dude, that sucks. I would've killed him by now.”

“Trust me, it's tempting,” he grumbled.

He met with everyone else as the week went, swapping stories and jokes and memes. He couldn't say it felt like he never left, because then they wouldn’t be telling stories, but it was nice.

By the time Thanksgiving Day came, everyone knew about the Plisetsky brat, and Ethan was thankful Plisetsky wasn't there with him.

Not that he said that during dinner—he said he was thankful to see Aiden and all his other friends again—but it was in his thoughts.

Packing up again to leave was the worst. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave his home and his friends. He didn’t cry, but his eyes were hot and his vision was blurry.

Okay, he cried a lot.

~~~

With only three weeks until winter break, the teachers decided it was a perfect time to bury them in projects and papers. Every class had lessons, a semester exam, and then a project for the last week.

Ethan was mentally exhausted. And envious. Plisetsky missed more than a week of class, and no one blinked. He wasn’t there the day of a literature presentation, and missed paper deadlines.

And did he get in trouble? Nope. He got adoring looks.

But while he hated Plisetsky, the others didn’t catch on, and he was still friends with them. When he said he was staying for winter break, he was invited out. Groups of them were going go-karting and to the movies, studying, ice skating at the rink, and a bunch of other things.

There was another skating competition he skipped when school was running, but the break was fun. There was a new Marvel movie, and he learned he was just as terrible at mini-golf as the rest of his friends.

While he had no interest in the skating competitions, he _was_ willing to go ice skating at the rink. It wasn’t too bad. None of them were amazing, and Emmy fell just as many times as he did, but they laughed it off and kept going.

And the fun was ruined as soon as Plisetsky walked in.

Emmy hurried to the edge of the rink, grinning. “Hey! You gonna skate for us?”

Plisetsky smirked. “Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Not even during the field trip?” She pressed.

“Nope.”

Plisetsky dropped his duffel bag by a bench and tied up his hair. God, no self-respecting guy had hair like that… He made a messy bun worthy of Instagram, but instead of putting on skates, he started to stretch.

He started with lunges, bending to the ground easily, holding the pose without any sign of strain. He did that a few times before moving on to splits, first on the ground and then holding one leg up in the air.

Through all of that, Emmy kept talking to him, and Ethan suddenly wondered if they were dating. They were together a lot, and she obviously liked him. He seemed to return it, smiling at her more than others, though that still wasn’t a lot.

One of the employees at the rink appeared and stood by Plisetsky as he stretched. He didn’t talk, he just watched, and Ethan found it slightly creepy, but he was the only one. Emmy said hello and the man returned it, but he was mostly silent.

Another man also came over, silver hair and a wide grin.

“Yuuri,” he called, hugging the employee and not the kid. “I’ve missed you!”

“We just saw each other,” the employee—the other Yuuri?—replied dryly, but returned the hug.

“I missed you anyways! And Yurio!”

This time he did hug the kid, right as he was changing stretches. Plisetsky almost lost his balance, glaring and struggling out of the hug.

“Oi! Get off me, you old man!”

Okay, the man did have grey hair, but it was probably dyed that way instead of being from old age.

The man let go and Plisetsky huffed before continuing. Seeing the others there, Emmy left the edge to join them in skating again.

As soon as it turned eight, Plisetsky stood. “Get rid of them, Katsudon. My routine is a secret.”

The employee looked amused. “Oh?”

“Yeah. They can see it when everyone else does.”

“Alright.”

Emmy groaned. “What, no hometown advantage here?”

“I’m sorry,” the employee—Yuuri? Katsudon?—replied. “But once Yurio’s made up his mind, not even I can change it.”

“Fine… I guess we can wait…”

They took off their skates and returned them, Plisetsky just lacing up his own. Ethan resisted scowling. So it wasn’t just school; _everyone_ loved him.

Plisetsky didn’t step on the ice until they were gone.

~~~

The first week they got back for school, there were field trip permission forms.

As a part of PE, they were going to the ice rink. Apparently, that also started happening last year.

Each grade would go for a day and get proper classes, one grade per day excluding Wednesday. Seniors would go last on Friday, but they couldn’t just skip class or their grade would drop, and PE is a terrible reason to ruin your GPA.

The day of their trip, Plisetsky was notably absent, and there was a ripple of disappointment through the class. Even Coach Fisher looked upset.

The trip was fun. Viktor and Yuuri introduced themselves as the instructors, not that anyone but him needed that, and they spent the day learning tricks. Nothing too advanced, but definitely fun enough to keep them entertained. The chaperones just sat around while Coach Fisher talked to Viktor and Yuuri about Plisetsky.

By 1PM, they were done and ready to get back to school. They were all tired and wanted nothing more than to lounge around for the last half hour of school and go home.

As Coach Fisher finished up his discussion with Viktor and Yuuri, the class’s attention drifted to the entrance. Plisetsky sauntered in with a duffel bag, looking smug at the silence.

“Yuri!” Coach Fisher called. “Maybe you can give us a quick demonstration before we all leave?”

He smirked. “I haven’t stretched yet, and it would take too much time.”

Groans echoed through the class.

But he was right.

They needed to get on the bus if they wanted to get back in time, and Coach Fisher knew that.

Looking as disappointed as the rest of them, the coach got them all out and on the bus.

They could finally go home.

~~~

The last week of March wasn’t special unless you attended his new school. It was the last and most important skating competition they were showing.

“You have to!” Emmy insisted. “You haven’t seen the others, and it’s practically a tradition! I promise it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t care about skating.”

“That’s okay too! We just talk about the costumes and stuff! Please! I’ll even buy you the ticket if you want!”

Seeing her desperation, he sighed in resignation. “No, it’s okay. I can buy the ticket.”

The day of the showing, he was surprised the school let the auditorium go past maximum capacity. No wonder they made so much money with such cheap prices if the entire town went.

Emmy saved a seat for him, excited he was there. Unfortunately, it was in the first row.

As soon as noon hit, the principal stood on the stage. “Hello, everyone. Like usual, we’ll play a rerun of the short program first, and then go into the live free skate. There are snacks and food outside for sale if you get hungry. Let’s hope he gets gold again!”

The auditorium exploded with cheers.

The competition was held in Beijing, an American announcer speaking over the Chinese voices. They skipped over the other categories, going straight to the man’s skating.

The first skater was from Japan, and while he was impressive, Ethan regretting agreeing to come. He just couldn't relate. He didn’t know anything about skating, and the announcers weren’t exactly helpful with the technical terms.

Next was Estonia, a country he forgot existed.

Then Ethan’s mouth fell open. _No_. No way. He was seeing things.

Representing Russia was Yuri Plisetsky and his coach Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov.

No. But it was.

He watched as Plisetsky stepped on the ice in a tight black and silver costume, hair done in an intricate braid, skating a few circles as the crowds cheered.

But the noise from the viewing was nothing compared to the noise in the auditorium. All around were screams of _You go, Yuri!—You got this!—Win gold for us!_ and Ethan couldn’t breathe.

Silence fell on both sides of the screen.

One second, two, and then the music played and Plisetsky was off. The beat was fast and he matched it, moving swift and easily, a quick tempo and quicker footwork. His first jump landed with cheers on both ends, but he was focused, unaware of the millions of eyes watching.  

The commentators kept rambling, but no one in the auditorium listened. They were focused on the routine performed so beautifully they couldn’t look away.

The music ended almost abruptly on a quick beat, but it fit as Plisetsky landed his final pose.

They jumped to their feet to applaud, both the auditorium and the crowd on the screen. Yuri was grinning, and he did a circle to pick up some flowers and plushies before meeting Viktor.

They watched as he sat in an area called the “kiss and cry” for his results. Viktor had his arms around his shoulders for support and they all waited in silence.

Finally…

“He got 98.40 points!”

Yuri sagged in relief, having the highest score by a big margin. Viktor hugged and kissed his cheek in congrats.

Not even Ethan could resist cheering at his victory.

The other skaters blurred together, though he noticed Yuri give a thumbs up to another skater, the most he’s done off the ice for anyone. Ethan fell into the routine of talking about things that had nothing to do with the skating—like Emmy said would happen—criticizing costumes and listening when others said one was hot.

When the final skater—Switzerland—finished, they saw the results, and Yuri was actually in second place by two points.

“Don’t worry,” Emmy assured. “He’ll probably make it up in the free skate.”

There was a break, at least an hour until the free program aired live, and everyone used that time to stretch their legs and get something to eat. There were hotdogs, chips, and candy being sold, but the line was ridiculous so Jacob and a friend offered to go to the nearest convenience store to pick up snacks.

“See, told you this was fun,” Emmy teased.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But since when did Yuri skate?”

She blinked in surprise before turning red and covering her face with her hands. “Oh god... We never told you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry! We didn’t know either when he first came. We thought he was just as asshole. But then we found out he skated professionally and has medals and competed in the Olympics and—”

“The Olympics?!”

“Yeah. He got gold.”

And the breathlessness was back. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry! We started watching his competitions to support him. We only charge money because the principal wants money for the school.”

“So if I just listened to you and came that first time…”

“You would’ve figured it out. But like I said, we didn’t know either, so it’s okay!”

“Okay, fine. But I’m still upset.” He bumped her shoulder to make sure she knew he was kidding.

“You know,” Emmy said lowly, “Yuri has two nicknames. One is the Ice Tiger of Russia…” _Which made sense._ “...And the other is The Russian Fairy.” _Which also made sense._

When the others returned with chips, it was just on time. After only ten minutes, the principal was back on stage and tell them to settle down.

“The free skate will be starting, so let’s wish him luck!”

Seeing it live was a whole new experience.

Yuri wasn’t one of the first for the free. They went through a dozen ‘ _that costume looks terrible_ ’s before Yuri went up.

Just like before, both crowds wished him luck as he did a circle and settled into his starting pose.

Like his other program, the free was just as fast and upbeat. Yuri’s black and silver short-program costume was replaced with black, white, and deep red, but his hair was still braided into a crown.

Yuri moved aggressively, but there was a grace to it. His movements had purpose, pushing him towards his goal, the one thing he wanted more than anything. Ethan wasn’t sure if it was gold or something else entirely, but he knew he wanted Yuri to succeed. And Yuri was doing everything he could, not letting any obstacle stand in his path.

Then, the music changed. It was just as fast, but Yuri’s movements became less frantic, more peaceful. Eyes closed, Yuri reached out, finding what he was seeking all along. He held it close, treasuring it, refusing to let anyone pry it away from him after his long search.

The music drifted into silence, Yuri holding his hands to his chest, eyes still closed.

They cheered with the crowd, watching as Yuri grew aware of his surrounding again and collapsed on the ice, tears streaming down his face. After a few seconds, he gathered himself enough to get up and and grab a few flowers on his way to the edge.

Viktor supported Yuri’s weight as they went to the kiss and cry, just as proud of Yuri’s performance as they were, if not more.

The silence was suffocating. Yuri looked emotionally exhausted but determined to see his score be the highest.

One second, two, three, and Ethan wondered if they could decide any slower.

And then—

“181.16 points! Yuri Plisetsky is currently in first place!”

They all jumped to their feet and cheered. Yuri beamed on camera, tear-tracks doing nothing to take away from his beauty at winning.

After a few more seconds on camera, Viktor urged Yuri somewhere more private as the competition continued.

In the auditorium, they relaxed into their seats. With the most important person done, they could watch without stress. They filtered in and out of the auditorium for the rest of the performances, getting food and sun.

Once the final skater was done, they just waited as the podiums were set up. Yuri was back at the edge of the rink, face clean and wearing a Russian jacket over his costume. He was talking to another skater whose jacket said Kazakhstan, smiling brighter than they’ve seen.

Seeing Yuri on the top podium with a gold medal was surreal. He stood confidently, belonging there just as much as he did on the ice. The Kazakh skater he was talking to earlier was beside him, taking home bronze, and an American took silver.

Somehow, Ethan found himself watching a sport he never cared about before, cheering for someone from another country than his, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset.

Once the ceremony was over and their hands were red from clapping, Ethan learned that there was more to their tradition of watching Yuri.

“Wait, why are we going shopping?”

“To buy a congrats card, of course,” Emmy answered. “Oh, right. You don’t have first period with him.”

Ethan did not, but apparently they bought cards and put them on his desk. Not everyone, of course, that would be hundreds of cards, but they usually bought them in groups.

His share was only 50 cents for the card, but the experience was priceless.

~~~

Once he was home and the excitement wore off, Ethan decided to properly look up Yuri.

He hesitated for a few seconds, tapping his screen absently.

Would a simple Google search work? Should he look on social media? Did it even make a difference?

He decided to skip YouTube. Seeing Yuri skate was amazing, but that’s all that would be there. He could always do that later. Besides, he wanted to know more about _Yuri_ , not his skating abilities.

Twitter and Instagram, then.

Twitter wasn’t too helpful. He posted about his competitions but there was only so much he could say in 140 characters. There were a lot of hashtags, mostly involving himself, but it was pretty standard, just like every other athlete’s account.

Instagram was Yuri’s domain.

There, Ethan saw Yuri’s life.

Yuri training, a 10-second video of his latest routine as a sneak peek for his fans, never for the bigger competitions but still interesting.

Yuri looking disgusted at Viktor and Yuuri being in love in the background, captioned “ _Disgusting #ifeelsick_.”

Yuri spoiling his cat, Sofiya, with toys and expensive food and a fluffy bed, letting her sit on him while he pet her and took pictures of her beauty.

Yuri taking selfies with the Kazakh skater—Otabek Altin—who won bronze at Worlds. They must be good friends because there were tons of selfies of them at hotels or competitions, at one of their houses, at cafes or sightseeing. Those photos came in blocks, but there were some where he would randomly post one with the caption _“miss him #longdistancesucks.”_

Yuri and Otabek wearing their medals and suits, holding champagne glasses at some fancy event after Worlds. For a second, Ethan worried before actually looking up the drinking age in Russia, but Yuri was good. There _wasn’t_ a legal drinking age in Russia.

There were pictures of Yuri with Emmy and Jacob at the Starbucks. They were all tagged, and Yuri followed all his classmates. Them at the skating rink, at his house, at the movies…

Yuri had _fans._ That shouldn’t’ve been surprising, but it was. They called themselves _Yuri’s Angels_ , and their fan accounts ranged over all social media. There were edits of Yuri in cat ears, flower crowns, and pastels, dedicated to his fairy-like aesthetics.

Ethan followed him on Instagram, but come Monday, Yuri still didn’t follow back like he did with the other kids in his class.

~~~

Yuri returned to applause, proud from his victory. His cards were carefully placed in his bag, making sure they didn’t fold or bend.

When lunch came, everyone gathered around him, congratulating him in person for his win.

Ethan found himself a part of the crowd, and called out to Yuri.

“Hey, Yuri. This isn’t fair.”

Yuri looked at him carefully, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“You followed back everyone here on Instagram, but not me?”

Yuri relaxed. “It’s not true friendship until you follow someone back,” he agreed.

He took out his phone and handed it to Ethan with Instagram open, and Ethan typed his user and hit follow.

“You better like my pictures,” Ethan warned.

“And you better do the same,” Yuri returned.

And Ethan might’ve fallen into the trap of hating him like everyone else did with Yuri, but just like them, he made a friend by the end of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! This originally wasn't supposed to exist, but AO3 user Moon6Shadow commented about this and... Here we are!


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